


Who the hell can see forever?

by Stilienski



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Humanity (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Outer Space (Good Omens), Crowley Was Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Embedded Images, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fallen Angel Crowley (Good Omens), Fanart, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23687344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/pseuds/Stilienski
Summary: “I want to show you something,” Crowley says softly after Aziraphale finishes his dessert at the Ritz.___When he is cast out of Heaven, Crowley thinks it's a mistake. So he sits and waits for the pearly gates to let him in again. He waits and watches as the universe is created.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 162





	Who the hell can see forever?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JungleJelly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JungleJelly/gifts).



He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. One minute he was questioning - no, not questioning, never questioning - one minute he was asking Her something and the next everything had just disappeared. No that couldn’t be right. She couldn’t have disappeared. Had he? 

He wasn’t in Heaven anymore. He was somewhere… somewhere outside. Out. He frantically turned around, turned away from the vast, alarming emptiness in front of him. When his eyes fell on the gates he didn’t know whether to be relieved at the sight or frightened. He’d never seen them from this side. He was never supposed to see them from… from Out. 

He was further away from them than he’d first estimated, the walk seemed to take longer than one of Her humans could manage. And the gates. Well the gates didn’t look as he’d imagined they would. They were firmly and undeniably closed for one. Though he was sure they wouldn't stay that way. Of course they wouldn’t stay that way. The whole point of Heaven was to let the humans in, right, Gates were supposed to let things in, that’s the whole point of gates. If you didn’t want people to come in, you’d just build a wall, surely? 

He’d also imagined they’d look more inviting. Though that was the thing with doors and gates, he supposes, they looked a lot more inviting when they were open, capable of letting people In. In any case, they sure looked shiny. 

No, not shiny, he corrected himself. Heaven was never shiny, never exuberant, never vain. Heaven was merely pearly, merely humble, only ever elegant if you must. _‘Words are important, Raphael,’_ Her voice rang in his head. 

He should probably stop thinking about how the pearly gates looked to him, he couldn’t possibly have the right words for them. 

Big? Big must be safe. And they were big. Towering over him for what seemed like miles. Which was ridiculous, they’d never looked that tall from the inside. Although he couldn’t actually recall a time where he’d been so close to them. If he’d never been close enough to realize their true size… would others be close enough? How was he supposed to signal someone to let him back in? 

No. No, of course. She would see him, hear him. She would know. 

Soon. 

Soon. 

  
  
  


Any moment now, She would know. 

  
  
  
  


She would come and let him back in. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


But She knows. Always, anywhere, anything, anytime She knows.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


She must be busy. 

Even when he finally gave in and sat down he chided himself for the lie. 

He sat with his back against the gates for only a moment before the emptiness in front of him became too unsettling. Even the path he must have walked on before was gone. No, not gone, it was still an extension of Heaven, of Her, She created it, it couldn’t just be gone. 

Hesitantly he scooted forward, _‘Angels do not scoot, Raphael,’_ his wings outstretched should he fall, but he didn’t. There was still something under him, solid enough to support his weight. He stood and walked a couple of slow paces into the nothing and when he turned around there was something again between him and the gates. 

Yes. This would work. 

And so he waited, sitting facing those impos- those big pearly gates. 

And She knew. 

  
  


She must be busy. 

*****

He hadn’t spent a lot of time thinking about time before. He’d asked once when She’d first shared the whole human plan. He’d asked a lot of questions about it. It all just seemed so… counterintuitive to him. She must have a plan for it all though. But humans puzzled him. 

They were like him, like the angels, they were like Her, they were Hers. But they still had to earn their place in Her realm. Had to live in a place full of temptation and still somehow find their way to Her in the end. And wasn’t that something? The end. 

Everything before the humans had been endless, infinite. The nothingness, the dark, the light, the angels, Her. Even Heaven had been infinite until She thought up Her humans. There was no wall, there were no pearly gates before. 

And now there were. 

And it took time for them to open. 

So much time. 

But not an endless amount of time, no, not anymore. 

The humans would only have a little bit of time on that round little spinning thing She had shown them. And when that time ended, they would come to the pearly gates. 

When She had explained the passage of time to him, in answer to one of his questions, he’d simply nodded along with his brothers. He wished now that he hadn’t pretended to understand it. It felt like he’d spent as much time Out as In. But that couldn’t be right. He’d been in Heaven for forever, and he couldn’t have been waiting outside for forever. The gates would open for the humans, he could walk in with them then. And humans didn’t have forever. That was the whole point of time, right? To not have forever.

He might not have been outside for that long.

Did humans have that much time? 

No, they didn’t. Lucifer had scoffed, he’d dared to _scoff_ at Her when She had explained. 

It must not have been that long. 

Soon. 

She knows. 

  
  


She must be busy. 

*****

He’d closed his eyes and when he’d opened them again there wasn’t nothing anymore. There was black and light and blue and white and thousands of round little spinning things. He supposes time must have passed while he’d had his eyes closed, but he still didn’t really understand that. Maybe it would be easier to understand now there was something. 

She had finally started her project, She must have perfected the prototypes. He wondered if it had taken her so long for the angels and for heaven too, but he didn’t think so. 

This looked like it had taken infinitely - well not really infinitely - more time to make than Heaven. There were just so many moving parts, there was so much color, so much darkness, so much light. And there, right there, that green and blue planet, smaller than most of the others, yet bigger than some, that was it. It seemed so insignificant. 

No, that was the wrong word. It couldn’t be insignificant. It was Hers. It was just… just small. Like the pearly gates were big, this was small. Nothing more to either of them. 

It was small, that home She had crafted for Her humans, but it was beautiful. It was shiny where Heaven was only pearly, it was gorgeous and extravagant where Heaven could merely be humble and elegant. 

It was tempting.

He tore his wide eyes away from the spectacle of all of that something and turned back to the pearly gates.

Any moment now.

From the corner of his eye he could still see all the shimmering, glittering, shiny new lights She had created for Her humans.

He felt a small smile tug on the corner of his lips.

No wonder She’d been busy.

*****

So much was happening. So much was existing. So much was alive. Not forever, not even for that long, it was a pity how little time was too much time for most of Her creatures. They were never still, always swimming, running, flying, crashing, falling, drowning. They were there and then gone again. There weren’t any humans yet, but it couldn’t be long now. 

Soon. 

And all around Earth light was moving, flashing to life, bright, burning, moving, travelling, shooting stars fading, crashing, dying. There and then gone again. The gates hadn’t opened yet, but it couldn’t be long now. 

Soon. 

And further away, right at the edge of endlessness there was more. Always more. She had said it wouldn’t be infinite, but no one could handle infinite if this much was finite. So much. It was… lavish. Yes, he thought, that’s a good word for all of that something. Just on this side of too much. 

But wasn’t it wonderful? 

Sometimes, when he saw another species die out, another star explode, another big bang, he suddenly remembered he was supposed to be waiting. How much time had passed? Had the gates opened and he hadn’t noticed because he was too captivated by the spinning of the planets? 

No, of course not, he hadn’t seen any of Her humans yet.

But what if he’d missed the humans because he’d spent too long staring further and further away at more and more? So much more. 

He would have noticed if the humans had come by on their way to the pearly gates, surely? Yes, of course he would have. And even if he hadn’t, Peter would have seen him sitting there, he would have called him to come inside. Right? 

It must be soon now. 

She must be so busy with Her humans.

*****

He was just carving out a message on the gates, to ask the humans to wake him when they entered, and that’s when he saw it. Stars crashing down, more at once than he’d ever seen before. No, not stars. They were screaming. And stumbling almost, they didn’t have the nice predictable path a star took, they flailed and thrashed. 

They had wings but couldn’t fly. 

They fell. Kept falling. 

He wished he could look away, but all he had been doing for forever was watching all that something. And now it seemed as if all that something had stopped moving so he could witness this. He had to witness this, someone had to. Someone who wasn’t Her. No, that was… he shouldn’t... She must have had a reason. 

But when the thrashing wings caught fire, he couldn’t help but ask himself if any reason could be good enough. They were angels. They were Hers. 

And when they crashed and didn’t stir while their feathers kept burning, blackening, when smoke billowed up from the crater and enveloped the planet, he worried what they must have done to stand in the way of Her plan. 

It seemed to take so long for the smoke to clear, but the moments right after seemed even longer. Those moments where he looked, always looking, for his brothers and couldn’t find them down there, between the littered remains of all those creatures. He only found them when the first fallen angel stood, slowly followed by the rest of them. All his brothers moving, surviving, living, small and insignificant among the unmoving bodies of those giant animals. 

And when only a moment later, Her first human took his first step in Her garden, he questioned how She had managed to put him on the planet while She must have been grieving Her angels, grieving Her creatures, must have been consoling his brothers, must have been adjusting Her plans at the least.

No, he shook his head, stood up quickly and went back to the gates. He couldn’t think like that, should never think like that. She had a plan, it was still working, that human must be just as wonderful as all of Her other creatures, maybe even more so. She must have just known about Lucifer, must have accounted for it. 

He sat down in front of the gates and lifted his hand to the unfinished carving. Fingers trailing gently over the words. 

_Wake me if I fell_

Yes, it was accounted for in the plan. An obstacle that she foresaw but was able to deal with.

He could feel the words, but couldn’t see them. He still saw them falling. Like a sick, perverted imitation of a shooting star. He couldn’t finish the sentence, and he didn’t have to. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Not like this, not when he could almost feel his own wings heating up.

He shuddered. 

It was accounted for. 

*****

She wasn’t busy. 

It was a perfect creation. It was all taking care of itself. Every moving part, moving on its own, confidently spinning, flying, floating on its own path. Every creature surviving, living, procreating, dying, without any divine intervention. Even the fallen angels seemed to be fine down there, doing their own thing, working towards… well he wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing, but they seemed to know what to do at least.

She had taken care of Her creatures, Her little spinning things, Her humans, Her fallen angels. She had taken care of everything so well, so perfectly, that she didn’t have to take care of any of them anymore. 

Still, he waited. 

He’d grown to like the waiting more than the watching. Watching lead to thinking and She rarely approved of his thinking, of his endless questions, of his questioning. 

So he waited, eyes trained on those big pearly gates, planets spinning on their paths, stars bursting to life, shooting past him, dying around him. 

He waited, Her favorite small insignificant planet completing another lap around the brightest star, fallen angels conniving for Her, humans puttering around the garden like She’d planned. He still didn’t know much about time, but he’d watched for long enough to know what happened behind him. 

He waited and he knew She knew. 

Because She wasn’t busy. 

Not anymore. 

*****

He wondered sometimes, about what Heaven was up to these days. The plan must be done now. Her creation was wonderful, marvelous, complete. All self-sufficient too. Were the angels just watching like he was? Were his brothers simply witnessing Her creation? Were they all seeing what he was seeing? The same stars, the same planets, the same creatures.

The same fallen angels. 

He wondered about that too. Wondered why they had fallen and he hadn’t. Was he meant to fall? Was he just cast out too early? Had he just been lucky that there hadn’t been anything to fall to yet? 

And one time he dared to wonder if Her plan had maybe included Lucifer and his friends. Maybe Lucifer wasn’t just an obstacle she’d simply accounted for. Lucifer was Hers after all, Her angel, Her creation, supposed to be just as flawless as the rest of them. Or had She purposefully created him to have a flaw? Had She made him flawed by design? Was he a part of Her plan from the very beginning? Always meant to fall. 

Just like the humans were meant to be tempted, were meant to sin to some degree, were meant to survive, to overcome, but not forever. No, after all She’d created time to be just as flawed. To have an end. A finish line for nearly all of Her creations, a finish line at which they would arrive with just enough flaws for Her to judge them. Just enough flaws to make it interesting. 

Interesting. 

Counterintuitive. 

But interesting enough to keep Her busy.

*****

More and more often he found himself staring at the far away things. The stars that were big enough to have their own set of planets but somehow just weren’t good enough. Not that they were in any way less than the sun, some were bigger and brighter and warmer. And some, he knew, would far outlive her precious sun. Yet none of those stars were considered good enough to have their own creatures to warm up and take care of.

The only job they were trusted with was to keep all those empty planets on their seemingly endless course. Spinning, just to keep spinning. 

Spinning just because She’d set them spinning. 

And all the while their stars were shining, always shining. Warmer and brighter than the sun. Watching over empty planets until She gave them their own creatures to take care of, if She ever gave them their own creatures. 

He figured more creatures would only be more interesting. 

But maybe She was too busy. 

*****

He’d taken to drawing to fill his time. He drew, sketched, etched, all the little creatures he could see. He gave each and every one of them a place on the pearly gates, right there with him. 

Because sometimes he worried what would become of them if he didn’t. That star of theirs wouldn’t warm them forever. Someday they would just… they would just be gone. And they looked so small from all the way up here. So vulnerable. So much smaller and softer than the creatures that came before them. Those had been giants in comparison and even they hadn’t lasted. And it wasn’t even just the humans who looked vulnerable, it was all of them. All the little creatures, the plants, the trees, the flowers, the animals, the critters, the crawlies. 

All so tiny, but still part of Her wonderful creation no matter how insignificant they all seemed from up here. 

Yet all of them still had a job to do, a role to fill. Even if it was to just entertain Her, to be beautiful for Her. Even if it was merely to slowly but surely clean up the remains of the giants that came before them. 

And they did it so well. But it would be fleeting. It wouldn’t be forever, She hadn’t made them that way. And he couldn’t give them forever. But he could give them this, a memory of them, carved into the pearly gates. They wouldn’t be forever, but they wouldn’t be forgotten. 

He could give them this, a place among the stars with him. 

Or he could at least give himself, a place among the stars with them. 

*****

As he flew up, up, up, he wondered once more why you wouldn’t just build a door if you wanted to let people in. He’d tried before, of course he had. So he wondered too, why of all the things, She had made this one to be endless. 

Gates that stretched up infinitely, eternally, were not meant to let people in. They were not meant to look inviting, no matter if they were shiny or pearly. 

But he was flying, trying, one more time. Still waiting for the gates to open. Still hoping to make it up and over this time. Trying. 

After all, wasn’t that all She asked of Her humans in order to let them in? To try and have faith. 

So he tries and hopes and prays. 

So he flies and screams and begs. 

So he reaches up and up and 

falls. 

He falls almost as long as he flew. 

Still he waits for those imposing gates to open. 

He tries and has faith. 

But he supposes the rules are different for angels. 

He falls and reaches, grabbing at nothing hoping to find something to hold onto. 

Still he watches. Those gates, those almost shiny only pearly gates. The gates he’d adored adorned with drawings and questions and accusations. 

He saved the accusations for the times he flew, his anger fuel to get higher and higher. 

It takes him a while to fall past his highest carving. 

_Who the hell can see forever?_

And almost as if in answer he closes his eyes and finally, finally stops watching. 

*****

He lands gracelessly on his back and only opens his eyes again when he makes up his mind on the final carving. 

He takes his time with it, wants it to be neat, to make sure it’s legible. 

When he’s done he simply stands and turns his back on that godforsaken place of his nothing in between Her Heaven and Her something. Without looking back, he carefully hangs his halo around Saturn and saunters vaguely downwards.

*****

It takes him almost 6000 years to see it again. There’s something about defeating the apocalypse with his Aziraphale that has him wondering about his place among the stars. 

“I want to show you something,” he says softly after Aziraphale finishes his dessert at the Ritz. And he does, it’s not a lie exactly, he does want to show Aziraphale that magnificent view. He wants to see it again too, it must be so different now after all those millennia, but undoubtedly still just as wonderful. 

It is, of course it is. They spend weeks up there, months, years. He’s almost starting to forget all he learned about time again when he notices that Aziraphale is no longer watching everything with him. Well, he should have known Aziraphale would be missing his bookshop by now, should have known he only lasted this long simply to indulge him. 

It takes him longer than it should to realize that Aziraphale no longer sitting beside him watching, means that he’s wandered off. It means that he’s at the gates. Waiting. Because there’s only so many things to do in this little land of nothing, watching and waiting. 

His heart jumps uncomfortably in his chest, he shouldn’t have taken him up here. What if Aziraphale wants to go In? What if he wants to stay? 

He walks up to the gates and quietly takes his place beside Aziraphale. 

“I’ve never seen these before,” Aziraphale says, a tone of wonder to his voice that has Crowley fighting not to flinch. “It’s a pity they’re closed.”

He’ll wait, he decides then, eyes focused on the carvings he made 6000 years ago. Forever ago. Another flaw in Her plan. There are always forevers, no matter if they’re there by design. If there’s anything he’s learned about time, it’s that there are forevers, big and small, hidden between the fleeting moments of a second, of a minute, of a century. 

When Aziraphale takes a final step closer to the gates, Crowley clenches his hand into a fist to keep himself from reaching out. He spent plenty of forevers here waiting and watching and waiting. He can wait forever again.

“These are beautiful,” Aziraphale marvels, his fingers not quite touching the cold carved surface of the gates. “A true pity they’re closed,” he repeats, letting his hand fall to his side. “They look so… menacing this way. An open gate would look so much more inviting, don’t you think so, dear?” 

He has to choke it out, has to try a couple times before he manages, “Yes, I think you’re right, dear.”

He’ll wait. 

Aziraphale moves as if he’s about to turn towards Crowley again, but he stops in the middle of it, eyes still focused on those godforsaken gates. When Aziraphale raises his hand again, it lands on the very first carving. Still unfinished. 

_Wake me if I fell_

Crowley reaches out then, finally, about to point Aziraphale to a shooting star, show him his halo if he must, anything to stop Aziraphale… but the angel’s hand is already trailing down, past an elephant, a lion, a monkey, a man. 

_Please, remember me._

If Aziraphale asks, he’ll give him the same lie he told himself in this same spot 6000 years ago. It’s for the creatures, the animals, the critters, the crawli-, the animals. But he doesn’t ask. 

He knows. Always, anywhere, anything, anytime he knows.

So Aziraphale doesn’t ask about Crowley’s last carving either. Instead he reaches out and grabs Crowley’s hand just a little too tightly. 

_Tell my Mother not to worry._

Aziraphale doesn’t ask, doesn’t say anything about it, he just stares, while Crowley waits and watches. And he feels. Feels Aziraphale tremble almost imperceptibly where he’s clenching Crowley’s hand in his. 

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, Aziraphale staring at his words, Crowley staring at their hands. It’s another small forever before Aziraphale turns with a derisive huff, fire in his eyes as he says, “Making heaven look like a prison is exactly the kind of design choices you’d expect from someone who couldn’t even pull off a tiny apocalypse.”

Crowley just looks at him, that brave huffing angel of his, so beautiful under the shine of a million crashing stars, a thousand spinning planets and a hundred dying suns. 

And he thinks he might just see forever. 

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by the song The Trapeze Swinger by Iron & Wine (though, if you're going to listen to it, I'd recommend Gregory Alan Isakov's cover).
> 
> This isn't what I usually write, and it's not my usual fandom, but here you have it anyway.  
> Leave some kudos if you liked it and I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments! 
> 
> (Edited to include the art)


End file.
